


Take The Gentle Path

by KayleeArafinwiel



Series: The Road Goes Ever On And On [11]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Deathfic, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:46:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayleeArafinwiel/pseuds/KayleeArafinwiel
Summary: Fastred of Greenholm, Warden of the Westmarch, gets some terrible news from Great Smials a few days after Yule.





	Take The Gentle Path

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamflower](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamflower/gifts).



> Thank you to Dreamflower for Miss Dora Baggins' Book of Manners and the Writing of Letters, as well as On Funerals sections, with which this story would not exist.

Monday, 9 Afteryule, 1482  
  
_Sterday, 7 Afteryule, 1482  
_  
_Dear Fastred,  
  
I am very sorry to have to tell you of the sudden passing of Mother Rose this Highday last. We had been together for Yule at Great Smials, of course, and she seemed in good spirits despite her recent bout of ague*, though tired. She went to rest after the Highday feast, and did not wake.  
  
We are much distressed, as you can surely appreciate, and Gaffer Sam is--”_  
  
Fastred put the letter down. He could guess how the former Mayor was. Of course he and Elanor had been invited to Yule at Great Smials, but with Firiel’s sore throat, and Elfstan’s shoulder dislocated after his accident, they hadn’t wanted to risk the journey all the way from the Westmarch. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. Would Elanor ever forgive him for not letting her go alone? Fastred turned back to Faramir’s letter, forcing himself to see what Thain Peregrin’s heir had to say.   
  
_Gaffer Sam is utterly inconsolable. The funeral is to be on Hensday at Bag End. I hope you and Elanor will attend. Elfstan and Firiel are welcome as well, of course.  
  
Love,  
  
Goldilocks and Faramir Took._  
  
Of course Faramir had signed it from them both, but Fastred knew his younger sister-in-law well; she would have spent all her time by Sam’s side, the two trying to console each other. Well, there was naught to be done - he would have to tell Elanor. At least Aunt Linden was in Hobbiton, and she was a Healer! The children would not lack for care during their stay.   
  
“Elanor?” Fastred called, hesitant. The undercurrents of anxiety in his tone were not lost on Elanor as she rushed into the study.  
  
“What’s happened, Fastred?” she asked. “I was just reading Uncle Bilbo’s tales of Lake-town to the children. Has Goldi written to us chiding us for missing Yule again?”  
  
“You’d best sit down, lass,” Fastred said heavily. “Aye, the post-hobbit came from Great Smials, but ‘twasn’t about Yule. Not exactly, at least…”   
  
Elanor sank into a chair, hand over her mouth, trembling like a volcano about to erupt, and stared in horror. “Not...not Ma,” she whispered. “No. She was getting better! She was! Mistress Rowan said ‘twas all right for her to journey there and--”   
  
“I’m sorry, love,” Fastred whispered. “Mistress Rowan was wrong. She...she’s gone.” He knelt by Elanor, and wrapped his arms around her, hugging his beloved wife close as Elanor sobbed. “The funeral’s on Hensday.”   
  
“At Bag End?” Elanor whispered.   
  
Fastred nodded, as Elanor looked at him again. “At Bag End,” he agreed. “Aunt Linden won’t mind looking after Elfstan and Firiel.”   
  
Elanor scrubbed at her eyes. “I’d...I’d better start packing, then. We’ll have to leave today to make it in time.”   
  
Fastred nodded. He understood Elanor needed the distraction. “I’ll pack for the children, and arrange the coach,” he said, giving Elanor a kiss. They left the study together before parting to fulfill their tasks, so the little family could all be on their way.  
  
_May you have taken the gentle path, Mother Rose_ , he thought, for he often read the Elven tales about Mortals going beyond the Circles of Arda. Whatever that path was like, he hoped it had been a painless one.

**Author's Note:**

> *Ague is an old-fashioned term for what we would call "influenza" or "flu" for short. (Thank you Dreamflower, for that!) "Influenza" was one of the prompts I used, and so when I posted it to the B2MEM Dreamwidth journal I used the modern word; here, I have corrected it.


End file.
